The First Three Weeks
by ashleymarietv
Summary: After the attack at the wedding, Hermione must spend three weeks with Charlie Weasley in Romania for Order Protection. Realizing that she's never actually gotten to know this particular Weasley during her time spent at the Burrow, she decides that she must remedy the situation immediately, all while planning for the inevitable war that is quickly building strength. HG/CW.
1. Chapter 1

"The Minister is dead."

The entire tent had gone quiet in the usual busyness of the Burrow's back yard. Hermione felt the breath leave her body, her mind go blank. Her hands shook as she grabbed at her wand where it usually sat in her pocket. It wasn't there.

"They are coming."

The Patronus disappeared as quickly as it had come. A scream broke through the silence, and suddenly hundreds of people whirled around her, almost knocking her to the ground.

Her eyes searched the crowd as fear enveloped her completely. Where were Ron and Harry? Hadn't they just been standing beside her? Her heart was racing. She felt like she could no longer breathe as the sound of those Apparating out and in of the tent came from all around her.

Death Eaters, she knew, as screams pierced her ears.

Shaking, she finally remembered where she had hidden her wand, which was secure underneath her dress, in a holder that was strapped around her thigh. The time for embarrassment had gone, and she ducked beneath her dress and grabbed at the place where her wand should be.

But before she could grasp it in her hand, she was lifted off her feet and flying backwards. She could see, as she tried to catch herself, that Aunt Muriel had been hit with the killing curse. Hermione had never liked Ron and Ginny's Great Aunt much, but she felt her heart sink as she watched the woman crumble in front of her, dead.

When she looked up, she saw him. He was masked, but his blue eyes bore into hers. A smirk fell upon his face, and he slowly moved toward her, raising his wand.

It was as if time had stopped. She inhaled sharply, her eyes wide.

This was it.

Soon, it was all going to be over, and there was nothing she could do. What would Harry do? What about Ron? Would they be able to finish Voldemort without her? Would they know that she had left them notes for this very chance, hidden in a book that she had a sudden, horrible feeling that Harry and Ron would never even think to look in? Would they know what she had already uncovered that she hadn't yet been able to tell them because of the wedding?

She never had fallen in love. She had never traveled the world. Her life flashed before her eyes, and she couldn't help but think that this couldn't be it, that her short life couldn't be over before she could do all the things that she had wanted to do when the war was finally over.

Just as the spell left his lips and the green light came speeding towards her, two things happened.

She watched as Ron, roaring with anger, sent a killing curse towards the masked man, screaming her name as Harry looked at her in horror.

She closed her eyes, waiting for the impact. It never came. Two arms wrapped roughly around her torso, and suddenly, she was spinning quickly out of the tent, her stomach rising in her throat.

She didn't know where she was, but as soon as her feet hit the wooden floor, she crumbled, crying hysterically. The silence was deafening. The cries echoed around the small room.

The man bent down, still trying to hold onto her, his breath labored.

"It's okay," he said. "It's going to be okay."

She didn't look up. Her entire body was shaking. She had never come so close to death before, and for all she knew, someone else could have died in her place. She imagined the curse flying at the person who had been behind her as they had tried to escape the tent, shocked, their eyes wide as the life left their body, never knowing that today had been their last day to live. And what about Harry and Ron? What about the others? Was everyone alive?

She suddenly felt her stomach clench, and felt the immediate urge to be sick.

"The others-" she said, in between sobs. "We have to go back!"

She felt frightened. She tried to get off the floor, but her legs wouldn't hold. The man, a man she knew to be familiar as she recognized his scent, held on to her steady, never allowing her to fall to the floor.

"Hermione, we can't," he said, although his own voice gave way to worry. "If we could, I wouldn't hesitate for a minute. We just have to wait."

At that moment, she heard a pecking at the window. The man finally let go to retrieve the note.

She looked up, tears blurring her vision, to look at her savior.

"Charlie?" she sobbed.

He threw himself to the floor beside her, dropped the note, and enveloped her in his arms.

"They're safe," he said, and she could tell that he was trying to suppress the urge to cry himself in relief. "Everyone's safe."

"We have to go then!"

He loosened his hold on her, and cleared his throat. Her face flushed from the closeness, and although she never had been given the chance to get to know Charlie, she couldn't escape from the fact that he was touching her in a way that he never had before, and she felt the awkwardness of the contact overwhelm her.

He shook his head. "We can't, Hermione."

"Why not?" she cried. All she could think about was seeing them again, but she tried to suppress her anger. She knew she couldn't keep acting this way, that it would do no good. She had to stay calm. She had to be logical. They are safe, she reminded herself.

"This was the plan."

He didn't continue, and she clenched her fists together as tears pooled in her eyes.

"Charlie, please," she said. "Tell me what's going on. I need to know what's going on. Why can't we leave? Where are we? Why did you bring me here?"

He sat back, leaning his elbows onto his knees as he sighed. He brushed a hand through his disheveled hair.

"We're at my home in Romania. Before the wedding- well, we had to be prepared, didn't we? We all knew there was a chance." He looked down at his hands. "Anyway, the Order decided that if something were to happen… You see, I offered up my home as a safe house. Ginny, Mum, and Dad are at Bill and Fleur's cottage, I assume. Harry should be with Lupin and Tonks at 12 Grimmauld Place, and Ron- well, he's supposed to be at Aunt Muriel's, but I can't imagine that worked out the way it should have."

Hermione placed a hand on his, and he looked up at her sadly.

"I'm sorry," she said.

"None of us really fancied her much anyway," he said, but she could tell he felt otherwise as his eyes became wet.

With the back of his sleeve, he wiped away at his face. "I'm just glad the others are safe. My job was to bring you here. They paired everyone with an Order member, you see, to lessen the chances of anyone finding you three."

She gave him a watery smile. "Thank you, Charlie."

"It's nothing, really," he said.

She shook her head. "You saved my life."

He looked at her, his brown eyes never wavering, and nodded.

"Anyway, we'll have to stay here for awhile."

"How long?"

He gave her a crooked smile at the question. "Well, they always say the first three weeks are the hardest."

When she gaped at him, he looked away.

"Just until you're safe," he continued. "There's a spare bedroom here that you'll be staying in until we get word from the Order. I didn't have much time to prepare, I'm sorry- I don't have much. There are some clothes in the dresser for you, if you wish to change. The bathroom is down the hallway there, first door on the right. My bedroom is across the hall from yours, in case you need me."

"Oh!" she said, and then, with a look of embarrassment and her face flushed red, she reached under her dress again. He turned his head, and she pulled out a very tiny bag. "I already packed. Harry and Ron- we were supposed to leave after the wedding together."

He nodded, and she patted his hand again.

"Thank you, Charlie."

He cleared his throat, and pulled out his hand from under hers. When he stood up, he reached a hand out to her, helping her off the ground. She didn't let go. Instead, she nearly choked him as she threw her arms around her, hugging him tightly. He could feel her hot tears on his neck, and he tightened his hold.

"Can I write a letter to Harry and Ron?" she asked.

"Of course."

"Thank you," she said as she pulled away to look at him. "I think I need to lie down. I'm not feeling so well."

He let go of her, and nodded. "I'll show you to your room. Would you like a cup of tea? It'll help soothe your stomach."

She couldn't help but feel as if he could read her thoughts, and now that the moment had ended, she suddenly felt very awkward. She never really had the chance to be around Charlie at the Burrow, and because he was gone so often, she barely even knew him. She felt embarrassed for crying all over him, and an unwanted thought dawned on her.

How in the world was she going to be able to live with a man she only knew of, but never really knew, for the next three weeks?

Shaking her head of the thought, she said a shy "Yes, thank you," and followed Charlie to the spare bedroom that didn't quite feel like home.

* * *

A/N: I wrote this first chapter in a fit of inspiration a month or so ago. Now that I actually have a break in studies in university for a couple of weeks, I'm excited to continue writing it. I've got some new inspiration, and to be honest, I'm actually quite happy that I had to wait so long to continue writing it, as I have new ideas that I think are much better than the previous ones I brewed up.

I really hope you enjoy this story, and are willing to stick with me through it as I begin to write again and try to publish chapters regularly.

Just a quick note: This will be A/U after the first few chapters of DH. It will most definitely be a HG/CW romance, and will probably also have some HP/GW on the side. If you have any consideration for other ships in the story, or just want to let me know some of your ideas that you'd like to see play out, let me know! They might just appear in the story!

- Ashley


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

For nearly three days, Hermione Granger spent most of her time locked away in the smallest bedroom of 135 Redwood Drive. A frazzled sort of mania had long since set in as she would sit, cross-legged on the twin-sized bed, pouring over a number of textbooks, her quill scratching on endless sheets of parchment, for hours on end. Dark circles bruised the skin underneath her eyes, and her hair had never looked more wild.

Her only escape from her studies came when Charlie Weasley would come home from work or Order assignments, and they would sit, most often silently, to eat dinner in the small, dimly-lit kitchen.

It was on the fourth morning that a knock came at the door. She could make out Charlie's footsteps creaking over the wooden floor. Grabbing her wand, she rose from the bed quietly, and pulled back the curtains of the window, which looked out into the front yard, a fraction of an inch.

Three men gestured wildly at the front door, two of them with flaming red hair and one with short, messy black.

Her heart leapt up into her throat. She pulled back from the window, the curtain closing over to mask the three figures , and swung open the bedroom door.

"Harry! Ron!" She pulled the two boys into a hug, despite their teasing groans. "What are you doing here?"

She looked up at Mr. Weasley, who looked grim, and Charlie, who looked rather excited.

"It's the full moon tonight," Mr. Weasley said. "With Tonks on assignment, and the Burrow being watched no doubt, Charlie agreed to look after you three today. That means no funny business."

He gave a pointed look at Ron, who grinned sheepishly.

"Don't worry, Dad, I think I got these three handled," Charlie said.

"Alright, well, I've got to get back to the Ministry before they've noticed I've skipped off," Mr. Weasley said, walking towards the kitchen. "Although, a cup of tea wouldn't hurt before I go."

The Trio exchanged glances as the two men stared at them. Charlie looked almost apologetic and Hermione realized they must have Order business they needed to discuss- alone.

"Alright, alright! We get the hint," Ron said, shaking his head. "We'll just scurry off then."

"I'll show you my bedroom," Hermione said, then led the way, letting the two boys enter the room fully before closing the door behind them. She could distantly hear the clinking of tea cups from the kitchen.

"I don't see why they won't let us join the Order," Harry said darkly. "It's not like we're not of age or anything."

"Who knows, mate," Ron said, before turning to Hermione, eager to change the subject (one of which he had heard a lot of lately) and the mood of the room. "So, how's my brother?"

"Gone most of the time," Hermione said as she sat on the bed with a sigh. "So, give me news! I hate not being able to know what's going on."

"Dumbledore thinks Voldemort's been traveling abroad," Harry said as he perched next to Hermione on the edge of the bed. "But I haven't had any visions lately."

"Well, that's good, isn't it?" Hermione said, looking at her friend intently. "Do you think the connection's closing?"

"No," Harry said, then began to whisper. "But I almost wish, y'know, that I could- just to see what's he's up to and all."

"Are you mad?" Ron exclaimed.

"No, Harry! You can't!" Hermione said, her face pale. The thought of Harry _purposefully _entering Voldemort's mind made her sick to her stomach.

"Please, _relax_, you two," Harry said, rolling his eyes. "I said I _almost _wish I could. Key word: Almost."

"Bloody hell, mate," Ron said, clapping Harry on the back as Hermione sighed in relief. "You love to give us a right good scare, don't you?"

"You'd be bored to tears without me," Harry said, laughing.

"Anyway," Hermione interjected, shaking her head. "So, I've been thinking-"

With that, talk of Voldemort, plans, and Hermione's studies bled well into the night.

* * *

At noon, a knock came at her bedroom door. She opened it to see Charlie Weasley leaning against the doorframe, his hands deep in his pockets.

He towered over her petite form. She was use to tall people, with Harry and Ron as her two best friends, but Charlie was taller, and it made her uncomfortable to crane her neck to look up at him.

She blushed, realizing that she was still wearing her pajamas and that her hair was a mess. He cleared his throat.

"There's a snow storm coming in tonight," he said. "We should probably go into town and get you some winter clothes."

"Right," she said, looking away. "I'll just get dressed then."

Twenty minutes later, she emerged from her bedroom to find Charlie waiting for her in the living room.

"Ready?" he asked.

She nodded. He held his arm out for her to take, and she stared at him as if confused.

"We'll have to Apparate," he said, cracking a smile. "Unless you prefer to walk the ten miles required to get there instead, that is."

"Oh!" She blushed again, damning herself for her stupidity. What was it about this man that made her feel so incredibly uneasy?

She grabbed his arm, and with a wave of his wand and a loud crack, they materialized outside of a town that she thought very much resembled Hogsmeade. The tiny shops were already covered in a light dusting of a snow, and she felt the familiar chill of winter seep into her clothes. Her hand dropped from the crook of his arm.

"Where are we?" she asked.

"Dulright," he said. "Just south of Muggle Bucharest. Come on."

She stepped along side him as they made their way into the town.

"Do you work near here?"

He nodded. "The reserve's about five miles east of here."

Silence swept over the pair. They walked together along the cobbled pathway until Charlie stopped in front of one of the older looking shops on the corner. A poster attached to the window showed a very severe looking man with a beard wearing a heavy coat and a fur-lined hat. She almost laughed at the sight.

"We'll need to get you a proper winter coat first," he said. "They're calling for temperatures in the negatives."

Hermione stared at him. "That's highly unusual for Romania this time of year, isn't it?"

He nodded, and realization quickly dawned on her. Harry had said that Voldemort was traveling aboard, after all. She felt her heart drop into her stomach, chills going down her spine that had nothing to do with the cold.

"It's the dementors then, isn't it?" she asked. "Causing the storm?"

"We believe so," he said grimly.

"I didn't realize Voldemort had such a wide presence here," she said.

"He doesn't," Charlie said. "Not yet anyway. That's not to say he isn't trying though."

She wanted to ask him more, but decided that this wasn't the right place for that discussion.

Hermione looked around her then. Not many people were about on this afternoon, and for the most part, the town was quiet and empty. Despite that, she felt paranoid, as if there were people she couldn't see staring at her.

"Do you think we could be recognized here?" she asked, worried. She hadn't even considered disguises, and now that the thought had entered her head, she felt positively stupid for not bringing it up before they had left the house.

"It's not likely. Let's go."

He opened the door for her. She gave him a small smile and then entered the shop.

Dozens of rows of clothes hung on hangers across from a small counter where an old man with a greying bread sat on a battered stool.

"Welcome," he said, his voice deep and raspy. "May I help you?"

"Yes, actually, where do you keep the sales racks?" she asked, just as Charlie brushed past her.

"I'll be right back," he whispered quickly in her ear before making his way to the back of the shop. She felt a chill go through her body at the contact.

"Right this way, Miss," the old man said as he stood from the stool. She followed him towards the front of the shop where he pointed at a rack next to the window. "You'll find all our sale items here."

"Thank you."

With that, he disappeared behind the counter, and she leafed through the rack of clothes. After ten minutes, she finally decided on a simple, purple coat that was thicker than anything she had ever worn before. She pulled it from the rack and walked to the counter just as Charlie reappeared.

"That'll be five galleons, Miss," the man said, and she reached into her purse to find her wallet.

She didn't have a chance, however, as Charlie placed the coins on the counter.

"Charlie," she said, as a blush crept up her face. "You don't have to do that. I have the money."

He shrugged, as if that explained his actions perfectly, and offered her a smile.

"Thank you, sir," the man said.

Hermione didn't know what to say as she stared at him. It wasn't as if nobody had ever bought her anything before, so why was she so shocked? Harry and Ron had gotten her loads of gifts for the holidays that had passed over the years. But, they were her friends. She hated to think it, but it was almost expected of them, just as she was sure they expected her to give them gifts as well. She didn't know Charlie that well at all. He had no reason to buy her anything, yet he did anyway. But why?

With the bag in his hand, they left the store. Outside, the weather had cooled considerably despite the short amount of time that they had been inside. She shivered.

"Thank you, Charlie," she said.

He smiled at her. "It's no big deal."

He held out his arm and, this time, she took it. The town faded away from them as they squeezed through space until their feet landed on the soft crunch of new snow in the front yard of 135 Redwood Drive.

* * *

It's been a long time coming, hasn't it? :) Despite that, I really hope you guys enjoyed it. I promise the next update won't take nearly as long.

Also, if you'd like to follow me on Twitter... y'now, if you're ever like bored or whatever, my Twitter handle is AshleyMarieTV2.


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